


Time Enough for Everything

by androidhoney



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst?, M/M, Mentions of Death (Amanda Grayson), One Shot, jims not rly actively in the fic..., thinking abt his captain ...., this is just a really long internal monologue from Spock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-21 18:11:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20697833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androidhoney/pseuds/androidhoney
Summary: There had been only two places in the vast universe that Spock had ever truly felt at home. The first was here, alone, high on the L-langon peaks surrounded only by the hot air and the soft, far away cries of silver-winged birds. The second place was one Spock was not yet willing to admit to himself.or, the one where spock spends the long vulcan night thinking about what it means to be home.





	Time Enough for Everything

**Author's Note:**

> this was completely inspired by [this](https://twitter.com/lesbianworf/status/1173961684945375232?s=19) part of the script from city on the edge of forever that didn't make it into the actual episode. I also drew from several other inspirations, not the least of which being phantom of the opera.....  
anyway this is my first fic on here !! translations for all the Vulcan words used r in the end notes ! hope u enjoy !!

Spock had never felt a sense of belonging, always distinctly alien wherever he went. It was decidedly illogical that his vulcan peers ostracized him, his too human heart too much for them to bear, despite their adamant belief in _Kol-Ut-Shan_. Still, Spock thought, he could not blame them. Centuries of steadfast traditions and meticulous cultural rituals all metaphorically thrown out the window by his father's decision to bond with a human. Spock's existence in itself was perhaps the greatest example of IDIC ever cogitated. The majority of his people however, did not seem to agree. 

Both too human to be vulcan and too vulcan to be human, Spock found that the place his mother called home, a damp and seemingly inhospitable planet, was not much more welcoming than the one he considered his own. Though it was the human nature within himself that distinguished him from others on Vulcan, Spock could harmoniously blend into the crowd there. On Earth, he couldn't look more alien. His eyebrows slanted towards the skies, ears pointed, and cheeks flushed slightly green laid in stark contrast to the rest of humanity. Spock had never considered himself one of them, could find no part of himself among them. 

And yet.

Spock looked up then, towards _Alam'uk,_ the setting vulcan sun. He could see the early beginnings of the long night forming from where he sat, perched midway through a trail that lead to the zenith of the cliff he was currently trekking. He could faintly see the twinkling of stars far above his head. He closed his eyes and basked in the warmth that still surrounded him.

There had been only two places in the vast universe that Spock had ever truly felt at home. The first was here, alone, high on the _L-langon_ peaks surrounded only by the hot air and the soft, far away cries of silver-winged birds. He remembered times where he would lie awake the whole night, settled on some haphazard outcrop staring idly out into the sky. Vulcan had no moon, but he would watch as _T'Khut_ would slowly fall towards the horizon, never truly falling under. The people here may never accept him, but the planet would never shun him away, her warm arms always ready to welcome him home.

Here, alone as he was, as he thought he always would be, he could find serenity. It is illogical to lie to oneself, Spock had recognized this long ago. He knew he would find no peace in the presence of another.

At least, that's what he wanted to believe.

The second place was one Spock was not yet willing to admit to himself. Spock had, of course, become very use to shutting people out. Even the bonds he had formed throughout his life could not pry his total desire to shield the truest parts of himself away. The bond formed at birth with his mother, the one created just after with his father, even the contingent bond he and T'pring had developed during their _koon-ut-la,_ one that neither of them had been too fond of creating, were never strong enough to crack through the iron defenses Spock had placed around his psyche. This had never caused too much of an issue though, as vulcans seemingly valued privacy above all else, save for logic. His mother, human as she was, was the only one who had ever gotten close. 

It was always humans, Spock pondered, that somehow got too close. 

He had spent his whole life burying emotions he was never even taught to name. Some names, though, came easy. Shame. Fear. Regret. All illogical feelings Spock would never admit to having. Such is the vulcan way. Other emotions he was not as certain about naming. The chilling sensation that would start at the base of his throat and sink its way down his body, slow and insidious, when he recalled his mother's death; the electrical zap that he would feel in his fingertips when making a new discovery; the heat that would spread through his center and cascade outward, warming him as though he stood in a fire pit, when his captain aimed a smile at him.

His captain.

This was the first time he had permitted himself to think of the man since his return to Vulcan. He must admit that part of the reason for coming back to Vulcan at all was to avoid thinking of the human entirely. In retrospect, Spock realized the plan was flawed from the beginning; nothing in this universe could rid his mind of Jim Kirk. Their lives had become irrevocably linked. 

_Ashayam. K'diwa. T'hy-_

Spock took a meditative pause, stopping his thoughts before they could continue any further. He already knew the tentative begins of a bond were forming between them. He also knew that if he pursued it, a fully developed bond with Jim would be incredibly strong. _K'diwa_, Spock thought again, the other half of my soul. It seemed almost an inevitability, he had always found himself drawn to the captain, as if Jim were _Alam'uk_, and Spock, _T'Khasi_; bound to orbit the man that radiated such a pure, lambent energy. 

This line of thinking was dangerous, Spock knew. A bond with Jim was not something he could pursue, there was too much at stake. A confession alone would jeopardize not only their careers, but the persevering friendship the two had created. The first friendship the vulcan had ever had. He would not risk losing it. 

It was of no consequence. Spock was in control of his emotions. Nevermind the way his mind called out to Jim whenever it sensed him, that his fingers twitched at the thought of meeting Jim's in the _oz'hesta_. Spock was in control. He had spent his whole life inside his own head, and there was no reason he couldn't continue doing so.

Still, Spock could not deny the home he had found in the other man. The unwavering acceptance he received from his captain pierced through him into his core. Jim's talent for making one feel accepted did not just extend out to Spock; he could see it in the way the rest of the crew interacted with him as well, Jim was somehow able to make every person under his command feel like they belonged there. To be wholly accepted, to not be expected to change or contort himself into something he could never be, was a gift Spock assumed he would never know. His time spent with Jim had been the nearest he had ever been to bliss. If there were to be more than this, Spock would not experience it. 

Spock slid his hands into the hot sands he sat upon, the redness of it staining them. He contemplated the texture of it, the coolness it held just under the surface, the way it clung to him after he removed himself from it. He thought of _ha-kel_ once more. He thought briefly of the divinity experiencing both of his homes at once would bring. He felt the desire to curl his lips upwards into a smile but resisted, curious as to why he felt the need to hide it when _T'khut_ would be the only one to see it. He looked up again towards the looming planet. _Alam'uk_ had fully set now, and he could see the full force of the stars burning lightyears away. Jim would feel comfortable here. Spock could make him comfortable here. 

_Ashau nash-veh ish-veh_. It is not so much of a revelation, Spock thinks, as it is a statement of truth. If it was to be him alone that knew of the existence of these feelings, it was of no consequence. Spock had shouldered such burdens his whole life, this was the least of what he could do for Jim. He rose then, no longer content to simply lie against the earth, and made to continue his hike up the high mountain. The night was very young, and he had time enough for everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Kol-Ut-Shan — IDIC, infinite diversity in infinite combinations  
Alam'uk — 40 Eridani A, vulcans sun  
L-langon — a Vulcan mountain range  
T'Khut — vulcans twin planet  
T'Khasi — the planet vulcan  
koon-ut-la — bonding ceremony commenced at age 7  
ashayam — beloved  
k'diwa — derived from k'hat'n'dlawa, meaning other half of the soul.  
t'hy'la — friend, brother, lover  
oz'hesta — Vulcan finger kiss  
ha-kel — home  
ashau nash-veh ish-veh — I love him
> 
> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/lesbianworf) 😚


End file.
